


The Unloved and Forgotten

by Almadynis



Category: Merry Gentry - Laurell K Hamilton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:47:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21512503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Almadynis/pseuds/Almadynis
Summary: The woman had been going the opposite direction, her business done, when she caught sight of their entourage and froze. No, that wasn’t quite right. She’d caught sight of him and frozen in place, blue eyes wide. But not in fear. This was shocked recognition. Disbelief.
Kudos: 14





	The Unloved and Forgotten

He caught sight of the woman when they were walking from the car to the Grey Detective Agency, where his princess worked. The agency was part of a larger building complex, thus many businesses were housed there, and the carport area catered to the entire building, not just their specific destination.

The woman had been going the opposite direction, her business done, when she caught sight of their entourage and froze. No, that wasn’t quite right. She’d caught sight of _him_ and frozen in place, blue eyes wide. But not in fear. This was shocked recognition. Disbelief.

As a bodyguard of Princess Meredith Nicessus, he and the others were adept at identifying – and disposing of – threats to their charge. However, this woman obviously wasn’t a threat. Her entire focus was _him_ , not Merry. As such, their group walked passed the stranger and into the building without comment or pause. Merry’s business for the day continued without occasion, so he put it out of his mind.

Until the woman appeared again a week later. Again, she was coming out of the building while they were going in. Again, she froze in place as she stared at him. But this time along with the disbelief, shock, and recognition, he also saw a tinge of hurt. He wondered at the pain, yet did not recognize her at all. As her entire focus was him, and he was Merry’s guard, he didn’t pause to ask.

“Who is she, Frost?” Merry asked, proving she wasn’t as oblivious as he’d thought.

“I don’t know,” he didn’t recognize her at all.

“We’ll see her again,” Doyle said in his implacable way.

The woman was of average height for a female human. Her hair was a rather nondescript brown that hinted at auburn in flashes of headlights. Her blue eyes were bright behind her large glasses, but with intelligence rather than color. In all, she was very average in appearance. Her clothing was just as average, though professional with black slacks, button shirt, and matching blazer. It was only her reaction to Frost that was unusual. That she was interested in _him_ , dismissing Merry and all of the other guards (several of whom were more beautiful and captivating than he) as unimportant that truly garnered attention.

Doyle of course was right. A week later, the same thing occurred. This time however, the woman seemed to have spent the past week gathering her courage, for with only a small second of hesitation, she walked up to him.

The entire party stopped, wanting to see this play out. It had been speculated to the point of betting in what this unknown female wanted their Frost for and why. They all remained silent, watching. Waiting for her to speak.

Her hand came up, as if to touch him, but freezing mid-motion to drop back to her side. Finally, after several long silent moments, she spoke, “I’d convinced myself you weren’t real.”

Frost blinked.

“Until I saw you here, I had convinced myself that I had imagined it,” the smile that came to her face was full of sadness. “Yet, there you were. Here you are.” The hand came up again. “May I? Just to be sure?” the plea was a bare whisper of sound.

He heard the fear in those words. Fear that she was imagining him. He nodded consent. Her hand came up and gently cupped his cheek in her palm. He leaned into the touch, just enough to add weight; helping convince her that it was all real. That he was real. Though he didn’t know why she was both hopeful and afraid of his affirmation. “Who are you?”

She drew back her hand with a nod and that sad smile, though it now had a touch of humor. “No, you wouldn’t remember me, would you? I look quite different now.” She swallowed and her spine straightened. “My name is Zoey. It’s wonderful to finally meet you.”

“Why don’t we move this into my office?” Merry interrupted them.

Zoey blinked, becoming aware of the others watching her. “I don’t want to impose.”

Merry smiled at her. “We’ve all wondered why you kept staring at him. I’m pretty sure there’s a betting pool going.”

Zoey blinked again, then laughed. “Of course there’s a betting pool. I was rather obvious with my staring, wasn’t I? I’d apologize, but these past two weeks have been surreal.”

Thus the group, Merry, Doyle, Frost, and Galen, all trooped into the elevator and up to the Grey Detective Agency in a strange sort of strained companionable silence. Doyle took up his position in the agency’s waiting room, Galen his guard post by the door, while Frost and Merry went to the desk. Merry behind the desk, Frost standing closeby. Zoey herself settled in one of the chairs in front of the desk, her eyes on Frost most of the time, though they did flick around the room in varying intervals.

“Would you like anything to drink?” Merry asked politely.

“No, thank you. I’m fine.”

Merry nodded, “Well, then I think it’s time you explain.”

“Yes, I suppose I should.” Zoey took a breath, focusing all her attention on Frost. “I know you don’t remember me, but you gave me one of my most cherished memories.” Frost blinked in surprise. “It was about twenty years ago.” Merry blinked; the woman couldn’t be more than thirty. “I was out mowing the lawn and I saw you across the street watching me on every pass. When I was done, you came up to me, knelt on one knee, and said—”

Frost spoke, remembering. “Little one, what do you wish?” He repeated the words he’d said that day to a small girl-child work as hard as a full-grown man.

Zoey smiled and nodded. Tears began to form. “Yes. I wasn’t old enough to understand what you asked. What you meant. Instead, I wished to play.” More tears formed, though did not fall. “The next morning I woke to find a foot of snow outside, and for the first time in my life, I did what every other child did. I played. I built a snow fort, and a snowman, and climbed mountains made of snow. I almost made myself sick playing, because I didn’t want to go back inside, even to get warm.” The tears finally began to fall, one by one.

Merry held out a box of tissues, which the woman took with a nod of thanks. “It was the happiest day of my young life. I looked for you for years afterward, until I was 16 and finally made a friend. Every winter, I looked for you. Until I convinced myself that you didn’t exist, that I had imagined it all…until I saw you here.”

“I couldn’t come back. I was part of the Queen’s guard and had been out on an unrelated task when I saw you. Once it was done, I had to return to her side.” Frost explained.

Zoey nodded, “That makes sense. I just…” she sniffled, wiped away her tears, and smiled at him. “I wanted to thank you.”

“Thanking a sidhe is very dangerous. Never thank a sidhe.”

She smile was rueful, “If it was anyone else, I wouldn’t even have the occasion to do so.” She shook her head, “I don’t think you understand. That one memory sustained me for years, until I was old enough to understand my life wasn’t normal and that had the power to change it. In a very real way, he gave me hope. Hope that not everyone was like my family. That things could be different, even if only for a short while. That someone could care about what I wanted, could care about me. In a very real way, he saved my life.” She stood, walked over to Frost, and stood in front of him, staring up into his eyes. “Thank you,” she stated, enunciating clearly. “A boon for a boon. I don’t have much and I’m only human, but if you have need, you need only ask.” The words were very formal – as formal as a human could know to be. Then she lost the formality as she stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Jack Frost, for giving me a childhood.”

And she walked out in the midst of their stunned silence.

It was that night when Merry finally asked, “She wasn’t the first, was she.” It was more of a statement than a question.

Doyle was the one who answered, “There was a time when Jackie Frost claimed and sheltered children. The unloved and forgotten.”

Frost was staring out of the sliding glass doors, “She helped remind me who I had once been.” He was silent for long moments before continuing, “She was not the only one that gained hope from that meeting.”


End file.
